


Exhibits

by deluxekyluxtrashcan (rhoen)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 15:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8850805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/deluxekyluxtrashcan
Summary: Phasma talks Hux into going on a blind date with Rey's ugly cousin, Ben Solo. Ben is, by all accounts, an unattractive, undateable guy, so Hux has very low expectations for their short date.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many things I should be writing, so of course I dropped everything to do this when the idea struck me. Huge thanks, as always, to kalikatze, for reading over this and also helping me cope with the summary.
> 
> It would seem that I've finally written BenArmie stuff. Congratualtions?
> 
> Don't translate or repost without permission. Linking with a short nippet is okay.

“And why do you want me to do this again?”

“Please,” Phasma begs. “Do it as a favour.”

“You want me to go on a blind date with some – and I quote – ‘unattractive, petulant man-child with anger issues’, just so that you can get a date yourself? Have you really fallen so low?”

Phasma has the good grace to look embarrassed. “She’s worth it.”

Hux snorts, certain she’s wrong. Anyone who tries to push their shitty, undateable cousin off onto someone else doesn’t rate very highly in his books. Making it a prerequisite to any relationship or romantic date is deplorable, especially when he ends up involved.

“Please,” Phasma says again, leaning forwards and looking terrifyingly like she’s about to grasp his hand and get down on her knees and beg. Hux is almost inclined to agree right there and then to get her to stop the unnerving display. “You don’t even have to like him. Just turn up, deal with him for a short time and then it’s over. You’ll never have to see him again.”

Hux narrows his eyes at his friend, wondering what he will get in return for this. A lot, he hopes. He’d better get a lot.

“Fine,” he agrees testily. “I’ll go on this stupid date. And if this Rey isn’t worth it, I’m breaking both her neck and yours.”

The switch from desperate to gleeful is dizzying, and Hux flinches as Phasma goes to fling her arms around him. Her uncharacteristic excitement is alarming, and he doesn’t manage to escape an awkward, too tight embrace. He hopes Rey isn’t delicate, or at least has quicker reflexes than he does.

“Thank you so much! You’re the best! Oh, Hux, thank you!”

He extricates himself from his gushing friend, eyeing her warily. The change is unsettling.

“What  _ has _ she done to you?” he asks cynically.

“Nothing yet,” Phasma grins, raising her eyebrow in a traumatically suggestive way. “But I’m hoping--”

“Ugh, enough,” Hux cuts in. “So, are you going to organise this hellish date, or do I have to suffer that indignity as well?”

“We’ll fix it,” Phasma promises. “Rey and I. Don’t worry.”

Hux gives her a scathing look. All he  _ can _ do now is worry. He has no idea what he’s gotten himself in for, and if what little he’s heard of Ben Solo is true, it’s going to be a rough ride.

\- – — – -

Hux tries not to think about it, which is easier said than done as the fateful day draws closer. He hasn’t seen a picture of Ben: according to Phasma he’s camera-shy, but he suspects it’s to prevent him from backing out when he realises exactly what he’s signed up for. The best he can get from Phasma, who has seen him at a distance and has heard Rey describe him (usually in annoyance), is that Ben is tall, has messy dark hair, wears a permanent scowl and too-dark clothing, and is thoroughly disagreeable. He doesn’t have many friends according to Rey, who is also convinced that Ben goes out of his way to upset and alienate people. Whether that’s just familial opinion or actual fact, Hux isn’t sure, but he supposes it means he’ll be forgiven when the date is a complete disaster – at least most of the blame won’t be apportioned to him.

He’s supposed to meet Ben outside the museum after lunch, wearing something comfortable and casual, and with his hair visible. Apparently Ben hasn’t been shown a picture of him either, and has only been told that Hux, a redhead, will be waiting for him next to the museum's notice board. If he weren’t so put out by his own discomfort, Hux might feel sorry for him: meeting a complete stranger isn’t his idea of fun, and from the minute details he’s gleamed about Ben, he’s sure it’s not Ben’s thing either.

On the day, Hux arrives early, and waits as instructed. He’s not sure how ‘casual’ Phasma would deem his black jeans, grey cardigan and white shirt, but it’s a crisp and clean-cut outfit, and casual enough for him. He has a lingering fear that his blind date won’t have made any effort at all, and he’ll be stuck for at least an hour with an ugly, unwilling and poorly dressed man whose appearance will make it blindingly obvious to anyone who sees them that they’re on an already failed date. The thought makes Hux fidget nervously with his phone case after checking his phone for the umpteenth time.

He assumes that Ben will be late – if he even shows at all, although Phasma has promised that he will – so when someone speaks it takes him a moment to realise they’re addressing him.

“Hi?”

Hux looks up from his phone to find a tall, incredibly attractive young man watching him awkwardly, pale, mole-kissed cheeks lightly flushed and deep, expressive brown eyes telegraphing unease. Hux’s gaze rapidly takes in the way the loose curls of shoulder length hair gently frame the guy’s face, and his eyes trace over a broad forehead, strong nose, and plush, wide mouth before he realises he's staring. The man is, in a word, beautiful, and Hux feels breathless and more than a little guilty – he’s standing here waiting for his blind date, and this complete stranger has effortlessly ruined him for anyone who comes after for at least the next two months.

“Hux?”

The sound of his name snaps him out of his daze, and Hux finds himself gaping, eyes blown wide.

“Ben?”

He can’t believe it, and as he extends a hand he realises his heart is racing, the skin Ben tentatively touches a little clammy. This has to be a joke. This can’t be Ben. Ben is supposed to be unattractive. This guy is too well-presented too, dressed in dark jeans and a plain black hoodie that hints at a strong physique. It’s not the smartest look but it’s… nice. It suits him. A lot, Hux finds himself thinking.

But whoever the guy is, he’s now looking away awkwardly, towards the museum entrance.

“Rey suggested this. She said you liked military history.”

“Oh, yeah, I do…” Hux manages, licking his lips and shoving his hands in his pockets. It’s definitely the Ben he's supposed to be meeting. He feels unbelievably disorientated. He’d thought Ben was supposed to be some hideous monster, but all he can see is an endearingly attractive and perhaps shy young man who looks as if he’d rather be anywhere but at the museum with Hux.

Hux isn’t used to being unsettled like this, and has to tear his gaze away from Ben, who is biting his wonderfully full lower lip and looking like he’s biting back words as well.

“Shall we?” Hux asks.

A nod is the best he gets, and Hux leads the way inside, pausing at the desk to buy a detailed museum guide. When he asks if Ben wants one, Ben shakes his head. Hux resigns himself to a very short, silent date, and is grateful for the venue. Before he’d thought it would offer him an excuse not to look at him unseemly companion, but now he thinks it will be a good cover for his own ineptitude. He wants to say something, but has no idea where to begin, and decides it’s better to focus on the displays rather than his own inability to bridge the gap between himself and someone he suddenly wants to get to know more than he’s ever wanted to know anyone else. It stings that Ben is so withdrawn, and is clearly reluctant to be in Hux’s company.

“The World War Two stuff is this way,” Ben says bluntly, walking towards the left hand corridor. He seems keen to get it over with, and Hux fights against the current of disappointment trying to drag him under.

At least when they reach the display it’s a nice distraction. The spacious room is crammed with artefacts and information boards, and Hux can see it sprawling off into at least two more rooms.

“Wow,” he breathes.

“You like this shit, huh?” Ben asks, rather unkindly. His tone is abrupt and his brow creased in irritation. Hux is stunned by the rudeness, but for the sake of at least the next fifty five minutes, he tries to be amiable.

“Not your thing?”

“The politics is boring.”

Hux wholeheartedly disagrees, but says nothing as Ben turns immediately towards a cabinet displaying different Allied and Axis uniforms. If he could, Hux would take his time reading every bit of information he could find on each display he comes to, but he can tell that he’ll have to come back on his own and do it another time. He’s supposed to be on a date, and his partner doesn't share his interests, or patience.

Instead of starting at the beginning, Hux drifts over to Ben’s side, pretending to be more interested in the display than he actually is. Ben, he notices, is peering closely at the artefacts. His intense gaze is reflected in the glass, and despite his stern look and abrupt personality, Hux still thinks he looks unfairly attractive.

“What is your thing, then?” he asks. “I wasn’t really given a choice. I was just told to come here.”

Ben shrugs. “Do you really care?”

“I’d like to know.”

He doesn’t get an answer. For a moment it seems as if Ben will tell him, but then the other guy shakes his head and looks away.

He really is impossible, Hux decides. He skims over the display before moving on to the next one, giving it the same amount of distracted attention as the previous. Beside him, Ben is doing the same. They’re going through the motions, and Hux can’t for the life of him think of anything to say. Ben is so closed off, as if sealed away in his own display cabinet; Hux can look, but he can’t touch.

And, oh, how he wants to touch. As the minutes tick by and they drift past the different displays, Hux wonders what he did wrong. Ben seems resigned and withdrawn, as if something Hux said or did has upset him. He holds himself too tightly, trying to make himself smaller, and he hides his face behind his hair. Hux wants to reach out and tuck his hair back, offering him a reassuring smile as he slips his hand into Ben’s, but every time the thought forms, Ben has already started moving away again.

As they near the back of the main room, Hux can sense a shift in Ben’s mood; he steadily seems more excited, and a little more animated. His steps as they move towards one of the secondary rooms are lighter. Hux’s curiosity is piqued – Ben has clearly been here before, and is interested in whatever lies in the next room.

When he sees the model Spitfire hanging from the ceiling, Hux understands. Ben almost bounds into the room, stopping at the first display cabinet to devour the information. The sight of Ben relaxing allows him to do so too, and Hux can’t help giving a small smile at the other guy’s enthusiasm.

“You like planes then?” he asks as he comes to stand beside Ben. Ben’s face has transformed, and he’s looking at the flight logs and training manuals with such a look of enjoyment Hux is still smiling when Ben looks up.

Ben’s expression immediately withers and dies. He looks hurt, as if Hux is mocking him.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

His voice is broken; hurt. Hux is taken aback.

“Like what?”

“Like… like I’m something amusing.”

“Hey,” Hux says firmly. “I’m not thinking that. I’m just glad you’re enjoying something about this.”

He looks back at the display, trying to grasp at a topic of conversation.

“It was all new then, wasn’t it?”

“Not really, no,” Ben says, fidgeting beside Hux. He seems torn, as if he can’t decide if he should talk about this or not. Hux is relieved when Ben keeps going. “They used planes in the First World War, first for reconnaissance and then as an active part of warfare. By the time the Second World War started there had been a lot of advancements, but…”

He trails off, looking down at his feet and wringing his hands together.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Hux feels helpless at the sudden collapse of the young man beside him. Ben had been talking so enthusiastically a moment ago, his excitement bight and infectious, and Hux can’t understand what made him stop.

“Don’t apologise,” he insists. “Keep talking. I don’t mind.”

Ben looks up, eyes wide with uncertainty.

“You don’t?”

“I promise you, I don’t,” Hux reassures him. They’re so close that he could reach out and place his hand over Ben’s fidgeting ones, but he doesn’t. He’s scared that Ben will bolt if he does.

“My grandfather was a pilot,” Ben blurts out.

“Yeah?”

“Can I…?”

Ben glances away from where they’re standing, clearly wanting to move in that direction.

“Of course,” Hux says sincerely, following Ben, who leads him to a display showing a regimental flag, some medals, a handful of personal effects, and a framed black and white photograph.

“That’s him. Back centre, with the open flight jacket.”

Hux peers at the old photograph, trying to pick the right man out.

“He could fly anything.”

Ben sounds so proud, and Hux turns to him, genuinely surprised to be standing next to someone whose relative is part of an exhibit.

“He must have told some stories,” he concludes, hoping to hear some.

It’s the wrong thing to say. As Hux looks up he sees the way Ben’s face falls, failing to close off and conceal the pain he feels in time.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay,” Ben lies. “Ancient history. Look – you’ll like this. Radar. It’s where the myth about carrots comes from.”

Hux knows about radar, but the comment about carrots goes completely over his head. He allows himself to be led to a display detailing radar’s inception, how it works, and the part it played in the war. As he skims the information, Hux can’t see anything about carrots, and decides he must have misheard, or Ben was rambling very badly.

“It’s amazing the technical advances we make during conflict,” he says offhandedly.

“Yeah,” Ben agrees. He’s looking at one picture, rather than the whole display, and Hux figures that radar doesn’t really hold Ben’s attention – that or he’s been here and read it all before and is bored.

He doesn’t look bored, though. Hux regards him carefully, deciding that Ben is definitely more melancholy and awkwardness than anything else. He seems lonely, and the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him grips Hux again.

“Please stop doing that.”

Ben’s voice is little more than a distressed whisper, and Hux realises he’s been caught staring again.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, “It’s just…”

“Yeah, I’m the ugly cousin no one likes or wants to have to deal with, I get it. Just… please don’t stare at me like that. I hate it.”

“What? No! No, it’s not that!” Hux insists.

“Oh, so you weren’t bullied into doing this like I was?”

Hux can’t deny that.

“At first…” he admits, “But... You’re not ugly, Ben. I like looking at you.”

Ben immediately blushes, shrinking in on himself.

“Stop mocking me.”

“I’m not,” Hux insists, but his words don’t seem to help. Ben starts to turn away, and before he can think about what he’s doing, Hux finds himself reaching out and grabbing Ben’s wrist, drawing the other man closer.

“Come here,” he says quickly as he steps backwards, dragging them both into a space beside the display cabinet. His back connects with the wall, and he looks up at Ben, finally letting go of his wrist. It’s a stupidly bold move, and Hux can’t stop his cheeks from heating as he realises the position he’s put himself in. He hopes it’s better than crowding Ben against the wall, though. The last thing he wants is for Ben to feel trapped.

Ben looks alarmed. Hux can see the vein in his neck pulsing with each rapid heartbeat, and he does his best to calm himself and come across as in control.

“I think you’re handsome.”

Where they stand is sheltered from the rest of the room, and it seems as if they’ve stepped into their own little bubble. It feels a little surreal to be so bold, especially when faced with someone so attractive.

Ben still looks startled, and his focus falls to the floor again.

“You think I’m handsome?”

Hux can’t quite believe how low Ben’s self esteem is. “Of course.”

“You weren’t… No one put you up to this?”

Hux’s patience slips for a moment. He wants to snap at Ben. Why would he play along with a sick joke like that? Instead, he reaches out, fingers finding Ben’s belt loops and inviting him to step closer.

“If you get to know me you’ll find out that I’m not the sort of guy who would do something like that.”

Ben is clearly desperate to believe him, and as he shifts closer Hux struggles with the burning desire to kiss him. Ben looks so thoroughly kissable Hux is sure he wouldn’t be able to stop if he started. It’s an unfair judgement to make, but he imagines that Ben will be an enthusiastic, grateful kisser, and would relish the attention Hux would gladly lavish on him.

“I don’t know how to get to know you,” Ben finally says.

“This is a good start,” Hux points out, his fingers still hooked in Ben’s belt loop. The next part is tentative, as he's actually afraid of the answer, and rejection. “If you want to get to know me?”

Ben nods. “I do.”

“As date mates, friends…?”

“Date…”

Ben says the word so breathlessly and earnestly, as if he’s poured himself into that admission. Hux smiles, his heart hammering in excitement.

“I want that too.”

Ben still looks very much like he can’t believe it, but he gives a brave, tentative smile anyway. The action causes dimples to appear on his cheeks, and Hux’s stomach somersaults at the sight. He can’t believe how well his day is going. He half expects to be interrupted by another Ben: the Ben he was supposed to meet, who is unattractive in both looks and personality and whose presence is a chore to endure. How he ended up with this Ben he doesn’t know.

“What do we do now?”

They’re still so close, so wrapped in their own little world, that Hux has forgotten where they are. He doesn’t suppose it matters: the place isn’t that busy and no one has bothered them yet. He considers Ben’s words carefully though.

“Well I’m a museum sort of guy, so I’m okay here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Could you show me your favourite displays?”

Ben frowns, looking hesitant. “Are you sure I won’t bore you?”

“I like this sort of thing, so I doubt you will. And if you do, I’ll return the favour. Deal?”

“Okay. Yeah. Deal,” Ben agrees. “We should… um…”

He pulls back a little, but before he can get far Hux reaches out and touches his wrist, slowly lowering his hand until it’s brushing against Ben’s. Ben finally catches on and, to Hux’s immense relief, turns his hand over and allows their fingers to lace together. They fit well together, and Hux can feel the warmth and lightly calloused texture of Ben’s skin. When the move from the little corner they’d been in, they’re both smiling.

“So do you want to hear about the Gloster Meteor or Bomber Command?” Ben asks.

“Both,” Hux says firmly. “But first I want to know what on earth carrots have to do with radar.”

The warm, vibrant sound that fills the air as Ben laughs leaves Hux breathless, his heart racing with wonder and excitement. How anyone could ever paint a picture in which Ben is unattractive and undateable he can’t understand: to him, he’s perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so stressed right now. I’m worn thin. I can barely hold on. I can’t cope with any more stress.
> 
> If I share a fic I’m (pathetic, I know) hoping for nice reactions, not more pressure. It’s supposed to be a release, not a way of being wound tighter. I can’t handle that right now at all, and I… I just can't, I'm sorry. I hope you enjoyed this, but right now I _really_ can't consider giving more, and asking puts too much pressure on me. I've put this here, in the notes, because I can't face comments. Again, I'm sorry, but I'm seriously struggling. I guess I was looking forward to sharing this too much.


End file.
